


Welcome Home

by Oryx_Gazella



Category: Don't Hug Me I'm Scared (Short Film)
Genre: DHMIS, F/M, Padlock, veering back to cute i cant drive this vehicle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 23:04:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oryx_Gazella/pseuds/Oryx_Gazella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paige and Tony's "roommates" are coming back after their "vacation", and Paige is planning a surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> this actually wasnt planned but paige needed revenge so
> 
> also someone on tumblr reminded me about how much i like tony bein a dork while i was drunk and i had to fit that in
> 
> also sorry about bein trash

            His back was to the door, he was distracted; everything was set up perfectly for her to dart in and try to bash his skull open.  So he was surprised when she didn’t.  She just kept walking.

            It wasn’t that he wanted to be killed, but it was odd that she hadn’t shown any aggression or aversion to him.  It had been days since he last killed her, and aside from the occasional conversion when they were in the same room, she seemed to be particularly preoccupied with tending to something in the backyard.  While Tony was mildly curious as to what she was spending so much time on, he didn’t want to go out and look for himself; Paige had set up...defenses around her garden.  He was also unwilling to directly ask her, for fear of bruising his pride.  Showing _interest_ in one of her hobbies wasn’t something he could allow himself to do.

            Tony stood up and crossed his room, looking out after Paige to see her tying on an apron as she descended the stairs.  Tony deliberated whether or not to follow her; this was probably a trap, but how prepared was she?  If it was something he could turn around, then it might be worth it.

            Tony checked that his sword was properly affixed to his belt, and went after Paige. 

            She was already singing softly and pulling ingredients out of the cabinets when he entered the kitchen.

            “Come to help me, Tony?” she asked without turning around, unafraid of him now that it was her turn to initiate conflict.

            “I’ve come to make sure you don’t set the building ablaze.” He retorted, sitting on the table to watch her.

            Paige briefly glanced back at him, rolling her eyes as she went back to grabbing things for…whatever she was about to ruin. 

            Tony eyed up the ingredients accumulating on the counter.  Flour, sugar, salt, cocoa, oil, a bottle of something dried and twisted, a bright red cluster of berries, mushroom caps…

            “Paige dear, what are you making?”

            “Hm?  Cake.”  She called over her shoulder, setting a bottle of vanilla next to the other ingredients.

            “I’m not going to eat that.” He remarked, raising an eyebrow.

            “Good, because it’s not for you.”

            Now Tony was confused.  “Just experimenting then?”

            “No.  Didn’t I tell you?  Our friends are moving back in!”  Paige bounced slightly, visibly excited about the prospect of more victims in the house.

            “Oh they are?”  His suspicion was rising.  “And how do you happen to know _that_?” 

            “I told you I was keeping tabs on their bank accounts; they’re down to their last $200.  They always come back when they’re down to their last $200.”  Paige strolled over to the fridge, pulling out milk and eggs and closing it with a kick.  “They need a surprise party.”

            He smiled, and nodded his head towards the dangerous-looking flora.  “And those?”

            “Psychoactive plants!  What better way to welcome them than showing them some new colors they’ve never seen before?”

            “You’re getting them high?  Won’t they _enjoy_ that, dear?”

            She wasn’t facing him, but he knew exactly what kind of grin had crept into her voice.  “ _Not with these_.”

            _That_ interested him.  Tony scanned the counter as Paige started pulling pans and mixing bowls out.  Something was missing.

            “Baking soda.”

            “What?”  Paige looked over her shoulder at him.

            “You need baking soda for a cake.  Where is it?”

            She shrugged, tapping buttons on the oven to preheat it.

            “The cake’s not going to rise if you don’t use baking soda.”

            She ignored him, beginning to sift flour into a bowl.  She hadn’t pulled her hair back, he noticed with some annoyance.  Though if she was going to stuff this cake with poison, he supposed that was the least of their worries. 

            Tony looked at the open cabinet, spotting the baking soda on the top self; it was out of Paige’s reach.

            “Are you really so lazy that you won’t get a chair?” he asked, exasperated.  When Paige didn’t respond once again, he sighed and got up.  Tony grabbed the box, setting it next to the myriad of other supplies.

            “Oh!  Are you going to help?” she chirped, turning to him with a smile.

            “I suppose I have to, otherwise you’d just be wasting your time trying to make something you couldn’t even _force_ them to eat.”

            A bundle of fabric hit him in the face, blinding him.  Tony’s hand flew to his sword, intending to slash apart whatever assault was heading for him.  The cloth fell off his face; it was an apron.  He stared down at it, still holding onto the sword’s hilt.

            “You’re so jumpy.” She giggled.  “I didn’t feel like hearing you complain about flour on your coat.”

            Tony wasn’t falling for it.  He leaned down, refusing to take his eyes off her as he gathered up the plain white apron.  He begrudgingly tied it on, hating to admit that she had a point.

             “I’m assuming you have no semblance of a recipe.”  He remarked, dumping the flour out of the bowl she just put it in and into a measuring cup. 

            “I have a rough idea of what I need, that’s more than enough.”

            Tony scoffed, irritated, and pulled a cookbook out of a drawer; only _he_ ever seemed to use the thing.  “You’re going to muck it up.  You can’t improvise baking, Paige.”

            “Maybe _you_ can’t improvise baking, but I can.  Take care of the dry ingredients, you’ve got a lot in common with them.”

            Tony cast a quick glare at Paige and picked up the bottle of dried _something_ , rattling it lightly.  

            “I’ll handle those, don’t worry about it.”

            He was wary.  Despite the fact that tormenting Harry, Manny, and Robin was an activity they typically worked together on, there was still a chance Paige was lying.  Or just changing up the pattern, as she so often liked to do.  But she didn’t seem to even have a weapon at the ready, unless she was going to try and bludgeon him with a spoon.  She wasn’t offering him food or even _watching_ him; she was completely engrossed in combining ingredients. 

            Something had to be up.  But he’d play along; as long as he didn’t leave his guard down, she wouldn’t be able to get the upper hand.  Tony meticulously measured the dry ingredients, trying not to think about the way Paige was haphazardly mixing her side of the recipe.  Paige leaned over him, nearly knocking his bowl over, and grabbed a handful of mushroom caps. 

            He watched her closely, expecting her to get out a knife and subsequently stab at him.  But no, she simply used a mortar and pestle to crush them, folding them into her half of the batter.

            “Are you done?”  she asked, pointing the spoon at his bowl.

            He slid the mixture over to her without a word.

            “It’ll only be _half_ boring, I suppose.  Though the combination of the two might be even more interesting than the whole cake being _all_ creative…” she mused, shaking the dry ingredients into the wet.  Paige poured the cake into pans, crumbling the bottled dry plant matter on top.

            She slid the pans into the oven, and set the timer.

            “The berries go on top after I’ve iced it, but it needs to cool.  While we’re waiting, do you want to help ma-“

            “What are you up to?” He cut off her chattering, tired of the façade.

            “ _Inspiring_ our friends, I told you.”

            “You know I meant what are you planning in regards to _me_?” He pulled off the apron, throwing it onto the table.

            Paige tilted her head, confused.  She moved toward him.  “Not everything is about you, you know.”  She stood in front of him, leaning on the counter.  “Now do you want to help with decorations or not?”

            Tony sighed.  He wasn’t going to be able to wheedle it out of her; she was too stubborn.  “Fine.”

            Paige smiled at him.  Her arm lifted up, around his neck.  Was she choking hi- no.  She placed a hand on the back of his neck and pulled his head down to her. 

            Time slowed down for Tony.

            What was she doing?  She couldn’t be kissing him they never kissed when they weren’t fighting.  She- 

            His face was hot; the red stripe running across his nose and cheeks ran a deeper red.

            Her eyes closed.  He should- he should close his eyes too.  _What was she doing?_

            Her lips touched his and-

            Pain.  His insides felt…warm.

            Tony looked down.

            “Oh.”

 All he saw was the hilt of his sword was jutting out of his stomach.

            He leaned away from Paige, stumbling back.  He tripped against the table, the back of the blade catching against it and making him fall sloppily onto his side. 

            “I fucking knew it.”  He gasped, panting slightly.  He was getting too weak too fast for a simple abdominal wound.  She had cut his aorta.  Or vena cava.  It didn’t matter, he couldn’t repair it before bleeding out.

            Paige leaned down to him and grabbed the hilt.  He weakly reached for her neck, gloves soaked in the blood flooding from him.  She didn’t bother to stop him from wrapping his trembling hands around her throat, the arrogance infuriating him.  He couldn’t find the strength to make his fingers crush her windpipe, and they slipped away as she yanked the sword out of him.

           Tony yelled weakly at the feeling of the metal tearing out of him, mostly just out of anger; pain was starting to dull as his blood left his veins so quickly.  He was angry at her for killing him, but mostly he was angry at himself for letting his guard down.  He had sworn he wasn’t going to.  So preoccupied with watching the weapons in the kitchen he didn’t even realize he brought one for her.  She distracted him so much he didn’t even notice her grabbing his sword.  He _knew_ she was planning something and she still...

            “Thank you for helping, Tony.”  She called down to him.  He glared as well as he could in her direction, unable to lift his head and look at her.

            His’s world went black, lying bleeding on the kitchen floor and mentally cursing his inattention.

      

* * *

 

            Paige had been gone for half an hour now.  They had watched her leave from the car parked at the end of the block.  She strolled out of the house, down the sidewalk, and out of view, having yet to reappear.  The house was dark and the shades were all drawn. 

            “Do you think _he’s_ out too?”  Robin asked, to no one in particular.

            “I can’t tell.”  Harry responded. “If he’s not, I’d rather deal with one than both.  I don’t know if we’ll get another chance to sneak in.  We should just…try now before she gets back.”

            The car approached the house, pulling into the driveway.  Hesitantly, Harry opened his door, the other two following suit.  They each grabbed luggage from of the trunk and backseat, not willing to speak.  They were finally coming home, but it felt like they were going to their own executions.

            After gathering the courage, Robin pushed the front door open.  The house was dark, silent, and unassuming.  They tossed the luggage on the couch, not wanting to be weighed down in case Tony was lurking around.  They left the door cracked open, as a precaution.

            They made their way through the house in a group, all looking in different directions. 

            Harry was the first to make it to the dining room, suddenly stopping; the other two crashed into him. 

            “What-“ was all Manny got out, not really needing to say any more

The dining room was colorfully decorated, with balloons floating around and confetti scattered about the floor.  A cake sat in the middle of the table.  A banner stretched above the room, with “WELCOME BACK” written in messy red paint that had gotten all over the table.

            The most noticeable thing, however, was the… _guest_ already in attendance.  Their familiar enemy was sitting behind the cake…if you could call it sitting.  He had been tied to the chair to keep him upright, head lolling to the side, eyes glassy, and front soaked with red.  It was suddenly apparent that the banner had absolutely no _paint_ on it. 

            The front door slammed closed.

            “Welcome home, we missed you!  I hope you’re in the mood for cake!” cheered that horrid voice from behind them, footsteps swiftly approaching their terrified forms.

**Author's Note:**

> well he /said/ he'd help with the decorations
> 
> the moral is never help anyone with anything


End file.
